


The Missing Letters Between Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and Detective Samuel Wilson

by honestlyfrance



Series: Yours, forever and always, Barnes [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1800s, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Historical, Historian POV, Letters, M/M, Murder Mystery, Pining, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27341005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestlyfrance/pseuds/honestlyfrance
Summary: In the late ending 19th century, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes resigned from his duties as a military officer to follow Detective Samuel Wilson to the ends of the world, even going as far as accompanying the strange and wistful man in his cases. The letters collected by many biographers and museums are only the few correspondents between the two rumored lovers, running between the scrutinized years of 1889 towards the start of 1900, the timeline: The Sergeant running away from a German Spy group after the Detective uncovered a massive Russian Spy Ring decades earlier, calling fair game. Historians still can’t tell the full story that changed Europe, and neither do the letters.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Series: Yours, forever and always, Barnes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996594
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	The Missing Letters Between Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and Detective Samuel Wilson

**Author's Note:**

> initially on [tumblr.](https://honestlyfrance.tumblr.com/post/621406350704099328/the-missing-letters-between-sergeant-james) brackets mean commentary. enjoy!

[ The few letters curated are in code. Historians speculate it’s to hide the two men’s letters, making it difficult for anyone to read them, but what raises questions were the simple code used in each one: Caesar Cipher, a cipher where each letter of the alphabet is substituted for a letter three positions further. Historians then speculate why had the two men used such a simple and easy code to cipher their letters, and to this day, they cannot offer a concrete answer. The only letter that differed in code was from James Barnes, wherein you have to use a special kind of glasses that merges the two different inks used, red and blue, to form a coherent word. The glasses used to read this letter was owned by Samuel Wilson, but his biographers still speculate on the other colors the glasses are capable to read. ]

> 17, 8196 

[ date still being speculated ]

> Dearest,
> 
> The only thing keeping me together was you: me wanting you so badly. I couldn’t wait to sleep in our bed, hearing you snore so softly, or watch you pace in the room, a pencil in your mouth, your murmuring dulling me to sleep. I will be awake so 
> 
> Beloved, Barns

[ Pages missing ] [ Believed to be unfinished on purpose, but is merely speculation ]

[ To hide coherency between their letters, Samuel Wilson initiated using different papers, ashing pages, and using different inks. In his other letters, Samuel Wilson used several penmanship that barely look the same from the others; this is obvious in his letters to Sarah Wilson, his sister, and James Rhodes, his close friend. James Barnes, however, only wrote in the same handwriting, but he was ambidextrous, and his right and left handwriting were strikingly different, to which he used to his advantage. ]

[ The next letter is said to be Barnes’s last letter sent to Wilson before he finally settled down in his hometown. There were no records that show that Barnes really did settle down somewhere in Brooklyn, or in New York, for that matter, but what is sure is that he had met up with his sister, Rebecca Barnes, in Brooklyn during this time. The rumored letter written by Wilson to which Barnes is replying to was burnt along with the other donations to the Smithsonian Museum in the car accident of Wilson’s last descendants - luckily, no one got hurt. 

This letter of Barnes’s was one of the few that were descriptive enough to set the scene, as seen with the reminiscing of the London Streets of where Barnes and Wilson lived in. Another detail in this letter was the infamous Scarlett Body Case, the gruesome murder of Elizabeth Scarlett, an African-American opera singer, to which Wilson was assigned to. The only ever existing information about this case is in Federal Custody among the F.B.I. who work hard on closing the case the famous detective failed to solve. The Scarlett Body Case is the last case Wilson was known to have before he disappeared. ]

> Brooklyn, Dec 16, 1900 **  
> **
> 
> To Sam Wilson, down in Washington, D.C.
> 
> I have received your last letter with a warm heart, and all I could think about was how tragic your past years must’ve been. I wish I could’ve been right by your side, cheering you on as you trek every path that led you somewhere or to a dead end. Just as I read your hefty letter, I could feel myself submerge into the scene. I could feel the London streets and smell the thick air of smoke, feel the chilling winds of November frost as well as your lips tasting of nicotine. I breathe in the pages and could smell the strong scent of your cologne and faint blood. Have you been writing after every lead or case? I love that about you, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep that awful habit. Please, at least wash your hands.
> 
> I see that you need some help on the Scarlett Body Case, yet, again, that road is past me. I don’t feel the adrenaline of solving murders, jewelry thieving, or sudden disappearances, and I’m so sorry I can’t give you what you want. As I sit here in my drawing room, a thought dwells upon the air, thick with dread: “Is this the only thing Sam wants from me?” and I always think, maybe it’s right. Was that not the reason we left Versailles? Because we couldn’t handle the loss? We’ve been battered and bruised, Sam, and I don’t think I could take that grief to my deathbed anymore.
> 
> Time isn’t kind for us, nor will it ever allow us to breathe freely. This haunts me to no end; I thought I could avoid it until your letter came to me. All the way from America, how are you doing there? You’ve already said so many times how your new profession is treating you, but have you felt that urgency? have you felt that adrenaline? have you tasted strawberries on another’s lips yet? have you found something to exhaust your talents on? You’re easy. You probably already have while you waited for this letter to come back to you.
> 
> And yes. I still do think about that night. The whipping London air we love haunts me every night in April and all I could think about is the way your hands wrap themselves around mine. I couldn’t dread you for long, and I haven’t felt so much longing until you. I know I said I don’t write much in letters, afraid that future historians might find out that I love you, adore you, cherish you, but I really don’t care anymore. I hope each day that in some other time out there, our letters will be displayed for the masses, so they, too, can know what true love is.
> 
> Yes, she is fine.
> 
> Yours, forever and always,
> 
> Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes

[ The one paged letter is said to be incomplete and may have more pages describing Barnes’s past life in England, but that is merely speculation. This letter is also under investigation by the F.B.I. to help understand better Howard Stark’s murder on December 16, 1900 to which the letter is dated; the investigators hoped that the letter would reveal any information on the aftermath of the case but the abrupt ending of the letter didn’t answer anything. ]

[ The famous line “Let your lover go, you said; I didn’t want to go” came from this letter of Barnes’s. This, in addition to the rest of the letters, were speculated to be love letters, but historians claim that there weren’t enough evidence to prove that this affair happened. 

It’s in this letter where Barnes had helped Wilson with his cases after the aftermath of their separation, and it’s this letter where historians concluded that they still exchange letters. The case with the Sir Willobough character does not exist and still stump historians and biographers to this day. ]

> Brooklyn, Jan 24, 1901
> 
> Dearest Sam Wilson
> 
> Have you tried asking Sir Willobough for the napkin? You’ve recalled that he wasn’t in both places, but his alibi may be strong, but so was he: the two streets are near his store, is it not? This is the only letter you may find help from me, for I still take my stand, I do not want to help. That life is past me. My friend, have you not realized? 1892 scarred me. It has scarred you. I don’t want to take part in any endeavors that may harm you. I love you too much to see you hurt like this.
> 
> The post office was quite clumsy this whole month, because I had only received your last two letters dated Dec 12, 1889 and Dec 30, 1889 just yesterday, and I don’t know what came over me, but I had sat myself down in the drawing room and had written all of this mess. Yes, I’ve written the first page last to apologize for the mess you shall see. I didn’t want to display myself so bare like that but it had to be done: I miss you badly, I must admit. I cannot dwell on the fact that I had to leave you. We had a steady life and income, the stars cannot touch us with our fame and wealth, but, as all legends do, we died, and hence, we are forgotten. I’ve been left wishing for you to live forever but I know technology isn’t as advanced as that. I just wish you to know, may it be my final breath: I always wonder if you had loved me too, because I really couldn’t know. If you did, we would’ve stayed, but, yet again my mind surprises me, love isn’t supposed to be entrapment, it’s supposed to be free. Let you[r] lover go, you said; I didn’t want to go, Sammy. 

[ Page 2, 3, 4 missing ]

[ The fifth page is the only accompanying page of the complete letter that survived. It is where Barnes had described the night in which they had both met. The public, in addition to the historians, still debate over what the two men truly did in the library. ]

> All I could think of was the day we met: I was in my uniform, had just told my superior officers to bugger off, had finally resigned from my post, and suddenly you appeared. I still remember the host of the party. His name was Howard Stark, an old and dying man, who gave out parties so extravagant, may there be stories about it. Every room was illuminated with golden lights that the stars were jealous of, and there was food from all over the world, something so delicious I had filled myself to the brim. Everyone who was everyone was there. My General’s aides-de-camps were there and I had told them to “fuck off” as I had put it gently, then right at the top of the grand staircase was an angel, yelling at the top of his lungs, ‘General Valhan, you are under arrest for arson and homicide!’ Everyone’s head turned to you and laughed, but the guards weren’t laughing, handcuffed my General and I laughed the loudest. It must’ve come as insulting and even after a decade I still apologize for it. I’m sorry. You should’ve seen his face! I have never seen such terror on a man’s face, and I’ve been to war. 
> 
> I had caught you right at the moment, chased you up the stairs, and you saw me, ran away, and we played cat and mouse until we cornered each other in the library, locked the door, and had the best night of our lives. If anyone knew what we did there, we could’ve been killed for it, but, Bah! I love it. I love you. I still remember the coat you wore and how you threw it on the floor, how we wrestled each other on the floor before kissing so gently the angels cowered at the softness. I have never seen anyone so beautiful wearing only glasses, but then again, I hadn’t met you. And all was swell, all was sweet, we shared a cigar and I asked for your name. I still remember the fake names you threw at me: Jack Smith, Richard Wilkes, Patrick Stevens. Only when you gave me your business card was when you told me.
> 
> Another memorable moment was when I had chased your train and joined you to Versailles. Everyone was stunned. Everyone hated us. I loved that so much. I would ride that train again and again if you wanted to.

[ Another notable detail in the matter were the fake names Wilson gave Barnes, because those names were the names of his lesser known solved murder cases in which all victims died by strangulation and/or air-deprivation. There are a lot more Easter Eggs of Wilson’s many cases in the single page but the most talked about is the train express to Versailles, because it is here that Barnes and Wilson were being followed, ensuing the infamous manhunt for the two men by the unnamed Russian Spy Ring. ]

[ missing pages ]

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr [@honestlyfrance](https://honestlyfrance.tumblr.com/)
> 
> tell me what you think!


End file.
